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This Subdued Fire	By : gammiepie Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 26105 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
A long long LONG chapter...
Anti-Litigation Charm: You know the drill. :|. Don't own em, no money is being made no copyright infringement yakety shmakety.
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Wednesday morning Draco awoke. He was a bit stiff but a good long stretch worked some of the kinks out. His mind flashed back to the previous night. A smile crept on his lips.Who would've thought it? He and Hermione, trysting? The unlikely combination was enough to make him laugh out loud. But it was true. And adding insult to injury, Draco found that the Gryffindor female was one of the lustier bed partners he'd had. She hadn't been afraid to be the aggressor when his conscience had gotten the better of him. She seemed to understand that if they hadn't gone through with it, one of them could always hold it over the other's head. This way, they were both guilty; they were both complicit.

She was a clever one, was Hermione. He rather liked that about her. As much as she was a stuck-up, busy-body, rotten, stinking, know-it-all, he still liked the fact that she did, indeed, seem to know it all. He had to admit, she played him skillfully. She'd wielded her feminine charms, playing the tease game with him until he was almost stretched to his breaking point. Draco sent up a silent "bravo" at her tactics. Hermione would make a brilliant general.

Draco didn't know about the hours, no - *days* of agonizing Hermione had gone through to finally reach the place where she didn't care anymore. He didn't know that she'd paced her room and drifted off in thought as much as he. And after her wonderful performance, Draco applauded how she'd made him dance on her strings. He grinned maliciously. Well, two could play that game. He intended to rattle her cage every chance he got. Keeping her unsure of what he was doing would keep her in check.

He pulled himself up under the covers of the massive ebony four poster. The torches, as usual, burned a dull green colour. Not for the first time, Draco found himself wishing that Slytherin House wasn't locate the the dungeons. Waving a hand impatiently, the flames began burning a bright white, intentionally mimicking sunlight. He arose from the bed and looked in the full length mirror. Last night's activity had given him a bit of colour in his face. He made a sour expression. He was so pale that any colour he acquired looked suspiciously like a blush. Indeed, a rosy tint rode high on his cheekbones.

He willed it away and stalked into the bathroom. Stripping off his pyjamas, he filled the tub and sent his rubber duck into the water with a loud plop. The duck quacked indignantly, stuck its tongue out and began paddling about the bubbles. Draco scrutinized his face. There was a faint blond stubble along his jaw and upper lip. Strangely, the hair there grew darker than the hair on his head. It was a cheery sunshine hue and didn't suit him at all. Therefore, he carefully shaved it off. He brushed his teeth and rinsed. Sinking into the now-warm tub, he lay back and thought of Hermione.

A shiver ran along his body, anticipating tonight's escapades. He had no idea what experience, if any, that Hermione had. Draco suspected it wasn't much. Certainly not enough to rival his. He looked forward to schooling her. He grabbed up a loofah and began scrubbing himself furiously, trying to get his mind off of her. It would never do to show up at breakfast with wood.

As Draco was washing, he felt a tingle of awareness race up his neck. In that moment, he knew she was awake at last. (In a rather pleasant mood as well, I gather,) He thought, grinning idiotically before he caught himself.

He'd learned in his research that if two mages connected physically, more than likely they'd connect psychologically as well. He just hadn't known it would've happened so quickly. Then again, he thought back to the morning where Hermione accosted him in the corridor about Pansy and his perverted little game.

She hadn't known it, but Malfoy had been deathly afraid that she would go running to the Headmaster. That's why he turned the tables on her; put her on the defensive. He'd finally kissed her to get her to shut up. It was a master stroke to have put a small Memory Charm on Pansy. The brown-haired Slytherin looked fresh as a, well, pansy that morning. Draco was sure, more than anything else, that that was what convinced Hermione that her mind had been playing tricks on her.

That night, Draco had felt frustrated and impotent. Hermione was not going along with his schedule. She was wild and unpredictable. Therefore he felt it necessary to vent on someone and that someone had been Pansy. Pansy resembled Hermione just enough that he could imagine that it was Granger that he was mistreating.

Pansy, for all her wide-eyed expressions of fear, secretly revelled in his ill treatment. Draco knew it and exploited that fact to his advantage. But he thought perhaps he'd gone over the line with her that night. For that reason, he used the Memory Charm. One day he'd have to choose a wife, and he needed to keep his options open. Although his wife needed to have both money and standing, there was little chance of his running across another Lady Di. They just didn't build women like that anymore. Draco sighed. The bathwater had grown cold. He got out, dried off and dressed.

The ever-efficient Hogwarts house-elves had been in and tidied up everything. Draco was in a strange state. Thoughts of having to settle down had depressed him, yet he could not truly be down because of his tryst with Hermione. He actually enjoyed it. Whether it was because of the sexual part or because of the adrenaline of sneaking around the school grounds or because he actually enjoyed Hermione's company; he could not say. It was all mixed up in a large mash of emotion.

Draco didn't particularly care for emotion.

He tamped down on his feelings and began the ascent to the Common Room. When he reached the door, Crabbe, Goyle, Millicent, Pansy and Blaise were all waiting. Malfoy smiled. His friends. His crew. Even though Millicent carped at him for losing more points when he was doped up on the potion, Draco knew she was in his corner. He led and they followed - without question. He didn't know or particularly care if they liked him as a person. To quote Caligula, he didn't care if they hated him, as long as they feared him.

That was a lesson drummed into him by his father. And rest assured, Draco absolutely loathed his father - for numerous and assorted reasons. But Lucius was correct when he told Draco that the only way to completely assure someone's devotion is to rule them totally, by any means necessary. The six of them wended their way from the dungeons to the first floor corridor. The Slytherins ran into a pack of Gryffindors on their way to the Great Hall.

(Oh, wonderful. It's Stinkpotter and his merry band of misfits. God, Weasel's head looks like a gigantic strawberry - bumpy and red. Ginny looks fetching...she's outgrowing her skirts,) Malfoy thought fiendishly.

Ginny *had* outgrown her skirt. Even though Ginny was still rather tiny, her skirt was about 3 inches too short; therefore, it exposed a lot of sleek leg. Her milk-white complexion was a great contrast to her black school robes. The fabric of her robes swung about, giving tantalizing glimpses of thigh with every step. Malfoy, being Malfoy, leaned over a bit to get a better look. Unfortunately, Harry caught him staring.

"Oi! Whyn't you look somewhere else, Malfoy? Ginny is *my* girl."

Draco merely gave his famous smirk. "OH, yes. It's slipped my mind, what with all the constant reminding you do of that singular fact. Besides, I know quite well what she's got. Remember, I had her first."

Ron jumped in the middle of it then. "You dirty, stinking little -"

"What? You couldn't come up with an original insult if you tried, Weasel. You know, you really should let Pomfrey give you something for those zits. You look like an under baked pizza pie."

Draco really should've ducked then.

Ron sent a roundhouse to Draco's elegant nose and the fight was on. There was a mass of rolling, punching, kicking bodies moving about on the flagstones. Students from other Houses had joined in and there was a throng gathered about the melee. Draco had just sent a vicious jab to Harry's chin and Crabbe (or was it Goyle?) had Ron in a half-nelson. Just then, a stern voice, amplified with a hurried *Sonorus* burst through the corridor.

"WHAT IN THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE??" It was Hermione, pushing people out of the way to stand in the middle of the fighting.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at her rather shamefacedly. Even Ginny, Pansy and Blaise weat fat fighting. Millicent and Neville had wisely chosen to stay out of it.

"Well? I want an answer?" Just as Harry made to speak, Hermione cut him off. "You know what? I don't really give a rat's fart. None of you should be fighting. Twenty-five points off from Slytherin and Gryffindor. Each."

Her pronouncement was met with groans from the combatants. Ron spoke up. "But Hermione, Malfoy was trying to look up Ginny'irt.irt. I couldn't have that."

Hermione looked at Malfoy hard, her expression inscrutable. "Is that true?"

He only gave her a cocky grin.

"I see." There was silence. "It appears that some things will never change." And Hermione gave Malfoy a look that managed to make him feel lower than mud.

She sniffed disapprovingly and went into the Great Hall, the onlookers trailing in her wake. The combatants calmed some and began discussing further punishment in hushed tones.

"Is that all we're going to get? Lost House points?"

Hermione heard them and called back, her voice still amplified by the spell. "Yes, that's all you're going to get. I assure you, the bruises you're going to sport will be punishment enough." She ended the charm and entered the hall.

Everyone who fought looked at each other and then proceeded to breakfast and not another word was exchanged until it was time for Potions.

She and the rest of her classmates had just settled themselves into their seats when Snape came from his office at the back of the room. He looked down his hook nose at them and sniffed dismissively.

"Have you all been brewing your Polyjuice Potion?"

Guilty faces all around. "I take your silence to mean no." Snape's stentorian voice cut into them like a hot knife through butter.

"I knew you layabouts wouldn't have started the potion. So I've taken the liberty of beginning it for you." Heads popped up in surprise. "Yes, yes, I know. What a shocker. But it is up to you to finish it. All unfinished potions will be counted as zeros. This zero will comprise roughly thirty percent of your total grade."

Eyes widened at the Potions Master. "Don't give me those looks. Be grateful that I've done this much for you. A month from now we will test those potions. God help you if they're not correct. Come up and get a measure of it. Front row first."

Row by row the stud rec received their measure of potion. Snape ladled it into thick glass beakers and corked them off. The thick mixture bubbled and steamed inside the containers. Hermione shoved hers to the side. Polyjuice Potion was familiar territory and she didn't give it another thought. Snape, noti thi this, stepped up and loomed over the brown haired girl.

Hermione looked up at the Potions Master insouciantly. She cocked an eyebrow and waited for one of his patented sneering remarks.

"Do you think that you know enough to brew this potion sufficiently, Miss Granger?" Snape drawled to great effect.

"Yes, sir. I do."

"Prove it."

Hermione's eyebrow went even higher. "There's no way sir. The potion is only ready after a month's time."

"Not with a drop of this in it." Snape took a small blue bottle from his robe pocket. The label read in scrolly letters 'Quicker Ager Upper.'

"Ah. Artificial aging potion. It may have an adverse effect, sir."

"Not this. I made it myself. Now, no more stalling. Get going," he barked.

Hermione got up and went to the front of the class. Today she was mentally kicking herself for choosing Potions as her concentration. The other students were silent as a tomb. They watched intently as Hermione measured and chopped and stirred and boiled. And then it was ready. She added one tiny drop into the mixture and it turned a grayish brown oozy colour.

"It's done, Professor. Whom shall I test it on?"

"Me." Snape's eyes twinkled with suppressed naughtiness.

"Pardon me, sir? I don't think I heard you correctly."

"Oh, you heard right, Granger." Snape snipped off a small bit of his hair and dropped it into the bubbling pitch.

Hermione stirred the hair in. The potion turned into a bright green bubbling pitch. She took off her shoes, socks and wristwatch. They would burst when her body grew into Snape's. The other things would be uncomfbly bly tight, but fortunately, Snape was slender enough so that the seams wn'tn't rip. She ladled some into a glass beaker and drank. A minute went by and she felt a tingling. Looking down she saw her hands and feet lengthen. She grew taller and broader and paler. Her vision sharpened a bit. Her breathing became deeper and slower. Suddenly, she could smell just about everything in the room. She could even smell the faintly spicy tone of Snape's aftershave.

(What was it with Slytherin men and spice?) She thought sourly. Looking in one of the glass beakers, she saw that she had, indeed, become the Potions Master.

She tried out his voice. "Professor?" Hermione was vaguely surprised to hear Snape's deep gravel come from her throat instead of her higher pitched tone.

"Well, class. It seems that Miss Granger has done it. Take notes, the potion was perfectly prepared. In a little while she will begin to change back. Although, I must admit, it's rather amusing to see myself in a Hogwarts skirt." Snape gave an amused chuckle at the image of himself.

Hermione looked askance at the professor. She couldn't see what had him in such a bloody good mood. Snape seemed almost...cheerful. If that were possible. Snape continued to teach the lesson as his doppelganger sat at his desk, waiting impatiently for the potion to wear off. Hermione fidgeted a bit, uncomfortable in her new skin.

She looked at Snape's hands. They were long fingered with long palms. They were the hands of a sculptor or a pianist. The fingers were blunt on the end and the backs of the hands were veined. Hermione clenched a fist. There was power in these hands, a quiet power. She looked at the rest of herself. Yes, Snape did indeed look funny in a schoolgirl's outfit. Hermione looked at the clock which ran silently on the back wall of the classroom. Twenty minutes passed. Then a half-hour. Forty-five. Sixty.the the stroke of sixty-one, Hermione could feel herself changing back.

She shrank in the chair, her feet almost dangling from the seat. Her hair went from jet black back to golden brown. Her hands went from Snape's elegant ones back to her somewhat stubby ones. The fabrics which strained the Potion Master's tall, lean frame went back to being just this side of loose. Her bare feet, which had been Snape's, corded with tendons, went back to being small and peachy-white with pink painted toenails.

Snape turned around and caught the last of the transforma. ". "Well?"

Hermione opened her mouth to speak. What came out was astonishing. "It was a little like...Good Lord! What in the world is going on here?!"

Her voice, distinctly feminine, had retained some of Snape's dark gravel. It now was smoky and deep, more like a female who'd spent a fair amount of time down at the pub. Snape chuckled darkly. "It'll fade in time. Your larynx must re-adjust."

"Ah." Hermione cleared her throat. It was like having a hoarse throat, but not feeling the ache which accompanied said condition. Hermione got up from the chair and put her socks and shoes back on her feet and re-strapped her wristwatch, then went back to her place beside Ron. He elbowed her playfully and she elbowed him back. They exchanged grins before settling back to take notes on the effects of Polyjuice Potion...which they already knew.

Hermione felt her notes on the potion, while already extensive, could use sbeefbeefing up. She spared a glance at Malfoy who nodded almost imperceptibly back. His silvery head was down; taking notes. Malfoy's quill moved in a fuzzy white blur over his parchment.

She'd never seen Malfoy so intent before. It vaguely impressed her. Maybe they did have more in common than she'd first supposed. Although she wouldn't put it past Snape to pad the Slytherin's grades. And Snape...he was becoming even more of an enigma. Hermione could deal with Bastard!Snape. But Funny!Snape was something entirely different. Things were spinning out in a totally unforeseen direction.

Hermione continued to take notes, listening to Snape's voice, moving in a lulling rhythm. She could almost see what some of the female students saw in the professor. He exuded a manliness that was nearly breathtaking.

Not one of the boys she knew were close to being men. However, Draco came closest in her estimation. In certain moments...Hermione could just see the man he would become. In time Malfoy would rival Snape. Even now sometimes, Malfoy could give her a look....

Hermione shook off those thoughts. Not before time, too. Snape called an end to class and dismissed them. The students rose and filed out of the dungeons. They blinked their eyes against the bright sunshine pouring through the windows once they'd reached the main floor. Ginny had a break just then and met them at the entryway.

The red haired girl linked arms with Harry and gave him a kiss. "Hallo darling. Did you survive Potions?"

"Unscathed. I can't say as much for our dear Miss Granger though."

"Really?" Ginny turned interested eyes to Hermione. "Do tell."

"Um...not right now. Have a class. I'll tell you later though."

Ginny winked and replied, "You may depend upon it."

Hermione left the group with a cheery wave and scurried off to Astronomy. Before she could begin the climb to the seventh floor, Draco waylaid her into a side corridor on the second floor. Hermione noticed the gargoyle which led to the Headmaster's office and hoped no one came along just then.

"You just knew the Polyjuice would work. You think you're pretty smart, don't you?" Malfoy asked in silky tones.

The corners of Hermione's mouth quirked. "Think, my dear Malfoy? I know."

"Arrogant hussy."

"I learnt it from you."

"Did you now?"

"Malfoy, you are the very best teacher of arrogance there is."

"But of course." He gave her a little mock bow.

She shook her head at him. "You know, you could stand a little humility."

"But then I wouldn't be me." He winked and walked back out into the crowd of students going up the stairs.

(No, no he wouldn't, would he?)

Hermione gave an amused sniff and continued on her way. Professor Sinistra was full information this anoonnoon. Unfortunately, the lovely autumn day was proving a distraction for the students. About the middle of class, he asked a question and only Hermione raised her hand.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

When Hermione spoke, her voice was still rather dark and husky like Snape's. The rough had smoothed out some, so now her tones took on the feel of double-malt scotch. As she spoke, Draco felt a definite rise in the temperature. In the space of about two hours, Hermione's voice changed from the vaguely high-pitched, slightly nasal tone of a girl into the round, warm speech of a woman. He could imagine hearing that deep voice calling his name late into the night. It excited him. He whispered a quick Deflating Charm and the problem was solved. Malfoy only hoped that she didn't answer anymore questions.

His prayers were answered when, an hour later, class ended and Sinistra hadn't answered or asked any more questions.

(I'll have to do something about that voice or I'll be walking around with a hard-on until the end of time.) Malfoy gave a small grin. He was already sure that his classmates thought he was a prime candidate for Satyriasis. Malfoy loped down the seven flights back to the Great Hall. Making a quick right he went down the nearly empty table length to his spot. Pansy was there as was Blaise. The two of them were the same as usual. No surprises there. Not like...(Stop it Malfoy. She's just a Gryffindor and a Muggle-born at that.)

The blond gave himself a mental shake and concentrated on his companions. Pansy and Blaise were accommodating as usual. Malfoy saw Hermione walk in with Stinkpotter and Weasel. (Goddamned Gryffindors and the fucking charmed lives they lead.)

Indeed, the trio was bathed in sunlight from the open windows. Each looked gilded, like young gods. They sat down at the table farthest from Slytherin. He could hear Hermione laughing at something (probably idiotic) one of her (definitely idiotic) friends said. She gave great deep throated sounds that tugged at his gut. Pansy and Blaise kept up a steady stream of conversation but his attention was really focused on what Hermione was doing over at her table.

Lunch passed in a blur. By some miracle of scheduling, Hermione and Draco had Advanced Magical Maladies and Cures together. Draco saw that Hermione hadn't paid atteattention to him whatsoever. She was stony silent in his presence and when he sent a quill over to her to write back and forth, she picked it up and snapped it in half. He took that to mean that she was thoroughly hacked off at him.

Conversely, Hermione had schooled her features into complete impassivity. She sat in the classroom which was in the back of the hospital wing attentively taking notes. Draco studied her. She'd actually done something with herself today. She'd sleeked her hair into a heavy knot which rested at her nape, showing off her magnificent neck. There were diamond studs, an early birthday present from her parents, winking in her ears. The stones lent a glow to her skin and showed off her fading summer tan. Which, Draco noted, she had done something to erase the sallowness, instead giving her a mellow shine. Her lips - wonderful Cupid's bow lips - he reminisced, were tinted a raspberry colour as if she'd indulged in the fruits sometime today.

Her skirt was a holdover from her Goth days of Fifth year. It was split up one side and held together with terrifically large safety pins. When she walked, she flashed a toned thigh through the opening with every step. This was something that wasn't lost on any male within sight of her. Right now, she sat with her legs crossed under her desk, one mary-jane shod foot making circles. The small rotations made her whole body move and caused Malfoy's body to sit up and take notice.

Cutting through his reverie, he heard Pomfrey dismiss the class. Malfoy looked down at his parchment and realized that he hadn't taken a single note. The majority of the class was Ravenclaw. They certainly had no love for him. No luck there. There was no way he was going to ask Finch-Fletchley. The poor boy would probably think Draco was chatting him up. Draco had had his adventures of that sort and was in no rush to repeat them. That only left Hermione. He knew she took excellent notes. But damned if he was going to ask her for anything. If she'd even give them to him.

Draco moved off from the hospital wing to the stairway which led to the dungeons. He was done with classes for the day and decided to hold an impromptu Quidditch practice. There was a match in the next two Saturdays. First of the season and against Ravenclaw. He gathered up the players he could find and sent hasty notes to the others to join when they could. The weather was mild enough and besides, he needed the practice. He'd grown soft over the summer holidays, rarely flying; and if he lost this match, his father would be highly displeased. Besides, it gave him an excuse to annoy Hermione, who was around the corner in her Care of Magical Creatures class.

(Although,) Draco thought, (one could hardy call that a class.) That great beast Hagrid was still there in his primitive little hut teaching those primitive little classes. Draco gave a delicate shudder. He dropped that class as soon as he could from his schedule.

Draco dressed in black shorts and a black and green striped polo. He had his broom and his leg guards slung over an arm as he headed out of the dungeons and out into the sunlight. As he approached the pitch, he saw that nearly everyone was there. He saw Theodore Nott, one of his chasers, on the pitch talking to Goyle and Millicent.

"Oi, where's Avery?"

"Probably off having a date with Rosy Palm and her five sisters." The players laughed at Nott's assessment.

"You would know, since you're usually right there holding it for him, Nott." Draco shot a sneering glance at Theodore.

Nott turned beet red and offered up no defence. Draco's insults were usually cutting and accurate.

Blaise came sauntering onto the pitch. Draco curled up his lips in slight disgust. She'd pulled her black hair back into a tail at the back of her head. Blaise decked herself out in white shorts and a green and white shirt.

(She and I look like bookends,) Draco mused. (Which was more than likely her intention.)

She'd come onto the pitch with her broom slung over her shoulders. That in turn pulled her body up so that her bosom thrust forward invitingly. Malfoy merely shook his head. When Be wae wanted to, she really laid it on thick. Draco was beginning to regret his decision to put her on as a chaser last year.

Terence Avery came running onto the sandy pitch, face red and breathing hard. Everyone there just shot him a disgusted look and Malfoy called for practice to begin. They talked strategy for a few minutes. Ravenclaw was clever but they tended to get caught up in details. Slytherin had no such problems. Quick and ruthless (and rather inclined to cheat), them onm on the pitch knew that with decisive playing, they could quite overwhelm the Ravenclaws.

Strategy decided, the students mounted their broom and the play b. Th. They flew fast and hard, with a skill that was hard to come by in a bunch of sixteen- and seventeen-year-olds. They ran through plays and two hours later, Malfoy was satisfied with the results. He called a halt to the practice, pleased with his team.

"Now, if we can do that during the match, it's all over for Ravenclaw. No slacking and no mercy. Hands in."

The players put their hands in. Each in the circle felt a magical pulse run through their joined fingers. Breaking contact they were in high spirits and they headed back to the castle joking and laughing loudly. On their way, they ran into the returning Care of Magical Creatures class. Draco couldn't resist having a go at Hermione.

"Oi, Nott! Aren't those the skinniest chicken legs you've ever seen?"

Nott grinned wolfishly. "Yeah, Malfoy, they ought to make some of these birds wear long skirts."

To Hermione's credit, she didn't stop in her progress, nor did she turn around and yell insults back. She did do something which suprised Draco to no end. Taking her bag from around her shoulders, she whipped her long robes off, exposing her uniform beneath.

All the Slytherin males emitted a long low whistle. The legs emerging from the hem of her skirt were neither ugly nor skinny. Draco could see the muscles working in them as she strode, head high, back to the castle. A slight breeze ruffed the pleats in the garment, exposing just a hint of her knickers underneath.

A voluble sigh was heard. Hermione didn't run back to Great Hall. She kept up her easy pace, sashaying back inside with a broad wink. Draco was compelled to give a short laugh. Two years ago, she'd have been ready to fight. Hermione did have a temper, he had to admit.

Reaching the hall with the rest of his team-mates, he slid into his seat. Blaise settled on her side, Pansy on hers. Crabbe wasn't there, so Goyle had Millicent all to himself. Millicent giggled coquettishly and nearly made Draco gag. (Ew. Please, don't let them procreate. Those would be the ugliest children on the planet.)

He looked across the room and saw Hermione laughing at her housemates. Somewhere along the way she'd lost her school tie and jumper. Two of the buttons on her white oxford had come undone, showing off the diamond pendant at her neck. Draco felt his blood pressure rise slightly at seeing Ron whisper something in her ear and Hermione smiling broadly at him. He tried to tamp down on the biting of the green eyed monster. Malfoy eyed her, yet kept an ear on the prattling of his table companions. Hermione looked over at him sitting stony faced and grinned. She reached up and pulled the chopsticks securing her hair out. The thick brown-gold mass swirled down in gentle waves and curls. Hermione flipped her hair over her shoulder and deliberately turned her head away from the blond Slytherin.

Draco smirked and tipped his goblet discreetly at her, acknowledging her stellar performance. He then turned to Pansy and began a concerted effort in that direction. Just as he had her all buttered up and gooey, he felt a hand land heavily on his bare knee. It was Blaise, giving him a look which would've melted gran Dra Draco mentally shook his head. The dear girl really was too, too obvious. Far too much for his taste. He discreetly removed her hand from his leg and yawned.

Blaise didn't take that as an insult. She turned the situation to her advantage.

"Oh, Draco. Are you tired?"

"Why, yes. I think I'm going to retire early."

"Would you like me to tuck you in?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "I'd quite enjoy that, m'dear."

They rose and left a steaming Pansy and a grinning Millicent and Goyle at the table. Across the room, Hermione saw him leave with Blaise and was determined not to let it bother her. Still, she couldn't stop the prick of jealousy at the back of her head. (It isn't as if we're exclusive,) she thought pragmatically.

She cracked open her copy of the 'Daily Prophet' and scanned the stories. There was a brief article about Voldemort being tracked. There were, she knew, Aurors in place around the school, but none of the students knew where. They didn't interfere with the comings and goings and midnight assignations of the student body.

Security was a little tighter but none of the normal activities had been ceased. She and Draco, with the other prefects and some of the staff were expected to plan out two events, the Christmas feast and the Seventh-year dance. Hermione made a face thinking about it. This year she wouldn't have a date to either event. Unless she could wrangle Neville into going with her. But Neville, while having outgrown his nebbishness was still cursed with two left feet. Hermione didn't relish having to spend the ing ing watching out for her toes.

Harry was out, so was Ron...although it seemed that if she were willing he would escort her. Then again, she saw the looks he had been shooting Lavender all through the meal. She looked over at the Ravenclaw table. Slim pickings there. Ernie MacMillan could be a likely choice. But then, he and Hannah could patch things up before then.

Hermione turned her attention back to Gryffindor. (Colin Creevey...hmm...)she mused. He'd finally put away that rulouulous camera and had grown into himself. He was rather attractive and full of good spirits. Perhaps she'd better go to work on him. But not tonight.

Hermione flipped through the periodical and found the funny papers. A strip caught her fancy and she giggled. Ron turned his attention away from Lavender to ask what was funny.

She showed him the strip and they both laughed together. "Do you think you could make me a copy of that, Herm?" Ron asked.

"Tell you what, how about I just cut it out for you?"

Ron's eyes widened in delighted surprise. "Really? Thanks."

"No problem."

Ron's pleased reaction was because during the time he and Hermione had gone out, she'd often clipped interesting or funny bits from the 'Prophet' or 'Witch Weekly' for him. Her version of love notes. Ron had known when Hermione's affections had changed because she stopped leaving those little scraps of paper for him. Ginny and Harry exchanged looks. They were aware of that fact as well. Maybe things were looking up.

Hermione dug around in her bag and came up with a pair of paper shears and carefully clipped the comic out. Sandeanded Ron the paper with a flourish. "Here you go."

Ron smiled and stuck the paper in his pants pocket. The wheels in his mind were turning furiously. He was trying to make sense of all this with Hermione suddenly becoming all warm to him again. Before, she showed no interest in being anything other than just a friend. Now she was being flirty and funny and nice. And she looked great. She'd really grown into herself this summer. He'd missed the changes because they were on the outs with each other. All that could change if he played his cards right.

Stuffed with food, everyone rolled from the table. The stairs decided to play nice with the groaning group and not move around too much. They reached the base of the tower and Ginny called out "Orange Zest." The portrait hole opened and they all went inside.

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you still have your last term Potions notes?"

"Why? Do you need them?"

"Yeah, Snape's being a real snot about letting us use the laboratory after hours. I need to know how to make Will-Strengthening Potion."

"Oh. Well, let me run up and get them."

While Hermione was in her room, the rest made themselves comfortable in the common room and pulled out their books. Hermione changed into civvies and began rummaging around in a trunk which sat under a window. Inside the space were all the notes she'd ever taken on all the classes she'd ever taken at Hogwarts. Flipping through all the bound parchments she located the one she was looking for and left.

Emerging from the staircase, Ron, who was lounging with 'The Monster Book of Monsters', looked up from his page er aer approach. Hermione saw his eyes light up and immediately regretted being warm with him at dinner.

She gave the thick of bound parchment to Ginny, whose eyes got as wide as saucers. "Are these them?"

"Yes, they are."

"Gee, Hermione...you take really...*detailed* notes."

"I'm going to let that one slip. But yes, I do. It's better than having to wrack my brain when examinations come 'round."

Ginny simply rose an eyebrow. "Thanks, Hermione. I'm sure I'll find what I need."

"No problem. Well...I'm going to the Library."

"The Library?" Ron piped up from his space on the couch. "You know, Herm, one day you're going to turn into a book."

"And you are going to turn into a post. As in 'dumb-as." No pun intended." She repsonded archly. Hermione gathered up a quill, parchment and her Potions book and left the Tower.When the portrait hole slammed shut, Gin looked at her brother and shook her head.

"Damn, brother. You just got burnt!" She licked her finger and made a sizzling noise at her sibling.

"Shut You You wouldn't know anything about it, fat head."

Neville piped up from his chair in the corner. "I found Hermione's comment to be particularly astute."

"Neville, shut up."

"You shut up," Ginny told her aggrieved sibling.

Ron reached behind his head and whapped Ginny with a pillow.

"Bitch!" Ginny yelled. And the fight was on.

She dove over to her brother and they scrabbled about the common room. It was all fun and games until Ron bumped his head on the mantel and Ginny stubbed her toe on a table leg. They sat on opposite sides of the room, rubbing their injured selves.

The trio thought that Hermione should've been there. Hermione had other ideas. When she left the tower, she headed to the library. Peeking in the doorway, she saw the tables packed with students. Sighing, she headed outside to the oak tree by the shores of the lake.

The squid was active in the still balmy autumn weather. It had its tentacles spread out over the grassy shore. Hermione picked her way over to the tree and sat down in the cradle created by the roots which stuck out from the ground. She opened her book and scribbled notes using a neat self-inking quill she'd picked up in Flourish and Blotts.

Hermione became absorbed in her work. Evening turned into dusk and dusk turned into night. As the sun went down, Hermione stuck her wand in the ground and said a hasty *"Lumos."* The foot long ash wand began to glow with a soft white light. Hermione could hear crickets chirping and the breeze wafting though the branches of the trees.

She paid them no mind. So intent was she, that she didn't hear the footsteps coming towards her through the grass. And then he was there.

"Boo."

"AARGH! Dammit, Malfoy!" She whacked him on the shin with her fist. "Don't sneak up on a girl like that."

"Ow. Well, you're not very observant, are you?"

"I was concentrating."

"Well, what are you doing out here so late at night?" Malfoy looked around at Hermione's little niche. "Oh, don't tell me you're out here doing homework." He shook his head disgustedly. "You wasted a perfect good summer's night doing homework."

"Well, some of us aren't complete layabouts, Malfoy. Takes a lot more than just showing up for class to be top of the heap."

"And some of us like to torture ourselves."

Hermione gave him a sour look. "Is it really that late?" She asked, changing the subject.

"After ten o'clock."

"Damn." Hermione scrambled up from her cradle of roots and gathered her belongings in her arms.

"And just how do you think you're going to sneak back inside?"

"Don't you worry your pretty little head about that, mister. Just worry about how you're going to get back inside. Besides, the more you jaw at me the later it gets." Hermione gave him an arch look and brushed past him.

Draco grabbed her by the bicep and sent her books crashing to the ground.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Hermione resembled nothing so much as a spitting kitten.

"Shutting that saucy mouth of yours." Draco kissed her.

And for one second, she leaned into the kiss. But remembering herself, she pushed him away. Hermione's eyes blazed hot yellow flames. "Jesus! You're such a whore! I mean...Pansy and Blaise and me! And God knows how many others! Don't you think I saw you leave with her today?! How stupid do you think I am? I mean, you just - you just waltz off with her and then come out here and cozy up to me! And, I...being the stupid ass that I am, just because you're a good kisser...OH! It just burns me up."

"Would it make you feel better if I told you nothing happened with Blaise?"

Hermione gave Draco an incredulous look. "No, because I know you'd be lying."

"Hermione." Draco's usage of her first name gave her pause. "I never explain anything to anyone. But I'm telling you: I did not do anything with Blaise."

"Yeah. How big of a fool do you take me for?" And with a wave of her hand, her belongings jumped back into her arms and she took off running for the castle.

Draco just stood there under the branches of the tree. He watched her hasty retreat ruefully. The one time he decided to tell someone the entire truth of a situation and she didn't believe him. It was not to be borne.

After leaving the Great Hall, Draco and Blaise had gotten as far as the Slytherin common room. The room was devoid of students, most of them still at dinner. Blaise looped her arms around Draco's neck. He stepped back and disengaged himself from her grasp.

"What's wrong Draco?"

"Nothing."

"What do you mean, nothing? You've never refused me before
"Well, this time is different."

"Different how?"

He decided to be cruel. Cruelty was easy - especially if it was the truth. "I just don't want you."

Blaise was completely outdone. "Not want me? Ridiculous."

"But utterly true. Frankly, darling, I'm bored with you."

"Bored?!"

"Yes. You're completely unimaginative."

And it was true. For all of Blaise's extravagant looks, she was totally bland when it came to bed. His secret name for her was "Miss Missionary." Besides, Blaise was completely obvious and the last thing he needed was an obvious wife. Blaise wasn't the brightest crayon in the box, either. She was clever and she was intelligent, to a certain degree. But she used her looks to get by way too often and that was a problem. Cleverness and looks were a fine combination, but Draco needed someone with more than cunning. True brains were what he was looking for.

Still, the Queen B. did not take rejection lightly.

"I'm not unimaginative. You're perverted. Well, this is the last you'll see of me, Draco Malfoy."

"Do you promise?"

"Bastard. You'll regret the day you let me go." And Blaise turned on her heel and headed towards her dormitory in a huff.

(Well, that's that,) Draco thought, vaguely relieved. He was also glad that no one had been around to witness that scene.

He didn't feel like hanging around the common room, so he left the dungeons and made his way to the Astronomy Tower. Climbing up to the observatory, he looked out of one of the windows. Nothing of note except a rather magnificent sunset. Draco went from window to window, looking out at the 360 degree view the tower offered. And at the window which looked out at the lake, he saw a figure under the branches of the oak tree.

Peering hard, he could see a mass of hair obscuring a face. Hermione. Resting his forearms on the stone sill, he studied her sitting under the tree. She was an enigma, that one. Smart, but naive. Ruthless, but kind. Violent and gentle. Wary and bold. He'd seen some of the many facets of her and was finding, quite to his surprise that he liked them all. He could even begin to tolerate her know-it-all ness because most of the time, she was right.

Still, she thought him to be the scum of the earth. She wouldn't be far from the truth. Just three days ago he had fully intended to give her up to Voldemort. Now, he'd completely changed his mind. Draco found that his taste for betraying innocents, even snot-nosed Gryffindors, was waning. Something in Hermione was making him respect her.

She never backed down from a challenge and she never failed to go toe to toe with him. He liked her cleverness and even liked the fact that she was bookish. Not to mention that she'd become a complete fox over the last three years. In her own way, she outshone even Ginny and Blaise.
His father would say that he was letting his hormones get the better of him. Perhaps that was true. She was magnificent in the sack, despite her lack of carnal knowledge. Draco smiled a wolfish smile just thinking about it. He grabbed one of the stools that Sinistra kept around the tower and went back to his place overlooking the lake.

He saw Hermione go from sitting to prone to supine and back again. And the sun sank lower in the west. When day finally turned to night, a light shone through the branches of the tree up at him. He could see a dainty bare foot peeking out. The moon rose overhead and Draco became aware of the time. It was nigh onto ten at night. Definitely after hours and Hermione still hadn't moved from her place by the lake.

Draco could not have said what propelled him to her side by the still wat but but he found himself there. He hadn't meant to start sniping at her, but it just slipped out. Habit, he supposed. Besides, she started it. Actually, he wanted to get her all riled up. Anger made her prettier in his opinion. Although the looks she gave him after their romps were gro on on him, too. Draco looked at his watch. It was nearly eleven o'clock. He began walking back to the castle, lost in thought.

Hermione, after she'd made her getaway, managed to make it inside without being detected. Casting an Invisibility Charm over herself, she crept up the back stairs to the seventh floor. She'd needed to become visible to the Fat Lady before she could get into the common room. Luckily, Hermione didn't run into anyone out and about. Most likely sleeping before having to drag themselves out of bed for Astronomy Lab.

(Damn Sinistra for conducting a class at midnight.) Hermione made a face and whispered the password to her chamber. "La Cocaina." She chuckled as always and went in.

Shoving her Potions book into her bag, she pulled out the book for Astronomy. She grabbed a plastic tube containing star charts from a peg on the wall. Taking the charts out, she spread them on the bed and took quick notations on what was going on in the heavens.

Looking at Virgo's position made her remember: in two more days she would have a birthday. Hermione was vaguely appalled. She'd been so wrapped up in other things that she'd actually forgotten that she had a birthday coming up. One year closer to being an adult. What a strange feeling that was. Seventeen...and having so much going on. (What would twenty-seven be like,) she wondered.

Hermione shook off that thought and concentrated on the charts. Other than the sun being in her astrological sign, there was nothing at all fascinating happening. The clock on the bedside table chimed eleven. She gathered her things together and got up from the bed. Crossing to the window, she opened it to let some air in. She saw the lake and the oak tree hanging under the fat moon. The small clouds scuttling across the silvery orb blew away and the reflected rays shone on a figure leaving the shelter of the branches.

It was Malfoy. He looked so small and lonely. Hermione's heart softened for him, just a bit. She'd seen first hand how he could seem to withdraw into himself with a harsh word. Yet he could offer up insults of the cruellest kind in retaliation. Malfoy was a walking contradiction. She suspected that underneath his bitchery, lurked a genuine heart.

Some moments, she really liked Malfoy. She liked his intelligence, his wit, his ruthlessness and determination. Something about the suppressed violence in him appealed to her on different levels. Other times, she really disliked him. His cruelty, his bigotry and arrogance all gave her a knot in her gut. It made her want to strike out and hurt him...badly. But...in their current situation, dil thl that really matter?

She watched him until he went out of sight.

Hermione made a command decision. The results of that decision would have to wait until after Astronomy. It was only an hour's time. She possessed plenty of patience. It was now close to midnight. Grabbing up her things she left her room and joined the other students on their way to the Astronomy Tower.

When Hermione reached the observatory, she was was hard pressed not to think of the things she'd seen and done in this room. Images of Snape and Vector, Draco and herself floated through her mind's eye. She tamped down on the memories and grabbed an empty stool. Everyone was in civvies, as Hermione thought of them. Some were in robes, but they weren't school robes. Others were in Muggle clothing, or something resembling Muggle clothing.

Hermione got a good look at Malfoy when he came through the door. It was a shock to see him in shorts and a polo shirt. He looked so ordinary. Yet, there was something other about him. Something that even in "normal" clothes made him stand apart from the rest. He pulled out a quill and hiar car charts and sat on the beleaguered sofa.

Sinistra walked in, looking fresh as a daisy. The students made faces at his chipper appearance. The professor went over to the chalkboard and began the lesson. There was a distant comet that they needed to plot on their charts and then project what its probable course was. Sinistra conjured up drawing boards for them all and the students got to work.

Halfway through the lesson, Hermione felt a nudge. She looked around. No one was sitting close enough to touch her. Another little touch. She looked at the ground. No quill was tickling her leg this time. And there it was again.

(Damnit, what is it?,) she thought irritated.

And then she heard a small chuckle. Looking around she saw Malfoy with a small grin on his face. She raised an eyebrow and got back to work. The hour passed quickly, much to relief of all the tired people. Hermione left out way ahead of Draco. He kept an ey her her but was distracted for a minute and she was gone. Shrugging to himself, he kept going on his way.

Reaching the first floor and the entrance to the dungeons, Draco was stopped from going on by a hand on his arm. He looked down and saw nothing. He grinned in recognition.

"Granger?" He whispered.

"Who else? And don't look so smug. It does nothing for you. Come on."

In the twinkle of an eye, Draco was invisible, too. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

The corridor was emptied of all the students and Draco followed the sound of her feet on the flagstones. They moved swiftly through the first floor and Draco identified where they were by the loamy scent coming from the open doorway.

"Greenhouse eight??"

"Yes, greenhouse eight."

"Couldn't you have picked somewhere different?"

"Malfoy, this *is* different."

"Very true. But I meant somewhere else."

"Like where?"

"Like...Slytherin?"

"No, thank you. This is neutral territory."

"Ah yes, the infamous neutral territory."

"Oh yes. Come along."

They wove their way among the tables to the back of the room. Hermione Alohomora'd the door and they stepped through. They became visible at one time.

Professor Sprout's private greenhouse was a wonder to behold.

Draco let out a low whistle. "So this is the fabled Greenhouse Nine."

"Mmm."

He looked around with something akin to awe.
It was carpeted in thick green moss. There were tables and chairs made of thickly twisted branches and flowering vines. The branches of massive ancient oaks held up the clear glass ceiling. The wonderful smell of earth and flowers and moss and green, growing live things was in the air. The atmosphere was humid and the lights were low. Hermione became the aggressor. She pulled Draco to her and kissed him so hard and so long that when he stepped back, his head was spinning.

"Good Lord, woman. What are you about?"

"I decided something tonight."

"What?" Her deep voice had roughened somewhat with the late hour. It washed over him like wildfire.

"That I really don't care anymore." While he puzzled over that obscure remark she kissed him again.

She sent her tongue snaking into his mouth and Malfoy felt his head nearly blow off. They fenced tongues and he thought his clothes were going to melt off any minute. Feeling air in some very unexpected places, he pulled away and looked at himself. Hermione was holding his clothes in her hands.

"Damn." He looked at her in amazement.

She smiled maliciously. "Now we're going to have a bit of fun."

Hermione waved her hand and out of the mossy carpet a chair formed and she forced Draco into it. Vines came up and twined themselves around his arms and legs, securing him to the seat. His eyes lit up. "Someone's in a naughty mood."

"Hmmm...you really think?" Hermione pitched her voice low, liking the feelin pow power she had over him. She walked over and knelt between his opened thighs.

"How can you tell?" She asked, letting her warm breath drift over his skin.

"Let's just say I have a hunch." Draco grinned.

"Your hunch may just prove correct." She slid up his body and settled on one leg.

Hermione inhaled the scent of him. Her brief time being Snape had not only gifted her
with his voice but also with his excellent sense of smell. She could smell the fresh lime smell of Malfoy. There was the faint peppery scent of carnations and cayenne. Underlying that, she could smell *him*, what came from Draco Malfoy's pores naturally. It was a wholly masculine smell. It was salty and sweet and faintly sweaty and warm. Hermione took a deep draught of it.

She could taste it on her tongue. It made her want to eat him up with a spoon. Perhaps this was what made all the girls swoon over him. Hermione smiled a feral smile. He was sitting there, still as a statue, waiting for what was to come next. She didn't disappoint. Hermione leaned in and bit Malfoy on his neck. He felt her sharp little teeth sink into but not break the skin. The sensation flashed in pain/pleasure ripples over his nerves.

Hermione slid her hand down his body. She wrapped her fingers around his steel hard erection but didn't move her hand, just kept it there. And then she squeezed. Malfoy let out a grunt but remained silent.

"Now, tell me." She gave a sibilant whisper into his ear. "Did you really refuse Blaise?"

"God, Granger. I told you I did. She thinks I'm lower than dirt now."

She sank the nails of her other hand into the nape of his neck. "Does she?"

Malfoy wiggled a bit under the dual assault. "She does. I'm through with her."

"And why is that?" She flicked his ear the the tip of her tongue.

"Because she's boring."

"Really?" Hermione began to stroke him in earnest.

"Mm. Really. She never would've...dammit it woman...thought of anything like this."

"Good." And slipping lightning quick off his lap, she wrapped her lips around him.

"Damn..." he sighed.

Hermione played her own version of the writing game with him. She spelled out the letters of her name sullyully and when she was done, Malfoy was writhing in his seat, sweat beading on his brow. She rose from her position in front of him and looked down at him, a superior gleam in her eye. Draco saw she was still fully clothed.

He gave her a narrow eyed stare. "You're a fast learner."

"Thank you. I have a very good instructor."

Hermione began stripping off her clothes. She didn't do it seductively or in a cliched way. Still, Draco thought that her unaffected manner was perhaps the sexiest thing he'd seen. When she was done she stood naked in front of him. He found her completely mouth-watering. She walked over and straddled his thighs lightly. Draco was struck by the similarities between this night and the first they'd spent together.

This time she called the shots. He found that wildly exciting. Every other person he'd been with had allowed him to do whatever he'd liked. It was just fortunate that they'd liked it, too.

She was eye to eye with him. The look she gave him could've lit his socks on fire, if he'd had any on. Hermione looked him dead in the eye as she slid onto him. Draco let out a pleasured sigh. She sat there, adjusting to the feel of him. She didn't move a muscle, just sat. Draco began to get testy.

"I swear, if you don't do someg sog soon, I will kill you."

"Promise?" Hermione had a twinkle in her eye.

"As soon as I get out of these bloody vines, you witch."

Hermione clenched her muscles around him and a pained look came into his expression.

"My God. Do that again."

She obliged him and added a twist. "Fuck me..."

"I thought that was what I was doing."
"Wo"Woman, this is no time to make jokes."

Hermione concurred. She could see a vein throbbing in Malfoy's temple. She began to move slowly, still teasing but giving him a bit of relief. He watched her moving on him, turned on to an unbearable degree. She looped her arms around his neck and fell into a steady rhythm. He watched her face change expression. She went from being a kitten toying with its food to a hungry lioness, devouring him with a voracity that stoked his fires even hotter.

She bit her lip in concentration, he could see small bloody spots where her teeth had broken the skin. He was dying to put his arms around her, to touch her. He hadn't touched her all day. The non contact was eating at him. Hermione's eyes opened.

"Do it."

"What?"

"I can see inside your head, Malfoy. Do it. Nothing is keeping you there."

"I don't understand..." He really didn't get it. He could barely think beyond his nerves at that point.

"Malfoy...are you a Mage or are you not?" Her husky voice rose at the end as her passion stepped up a level.

He suddenly comprehended her meaning. Concentrating hard, he broke through his viney prison and wrapped his arms around her tightly. His hands roamll oll over her skin and she writhed in his grasp. Finally Draco could control himself no longer and whispered an incantation in her ear.

*"Gratificare"*

Hermione drew in a strained breath and tensed. She felt like she was made of iron under Malfoy's hands. And then she began shaking in near manic convulsions. The feel of those movements sent him right over the edge and they got there together in one heaving mass.

He could feel her heart pumping so fast he couldn't distinguish the individual beats. She was slumped on his shoulder, deathly still. Malfoy set her away from him and he could see her eyes struggling to focus. "Come on Granger. Come back."

Hermione pulled in a deep breath. Draco could see the high color draining from her face and sent up a silent sigh of relief. He should've known better than to cast that spell on a beginner.

(Although,) he thought with an impish grin, (didndidn't act like a beginner tonight. She knew just how to push my buttons.)

She focused on him and came to herself. "Dammit, Malfoy. What *did* you do to me?"

"It's called a Gratification Charm."

"Well hell."

"It's not to sed sed often. It's highly addictive and dangerous. The effect is like being on the purest heroin you can find."

Hermione thought about a line from a movie she'd seen and murmured, "Better than any meat injection..."

"What?"

"Nothing."

In Sprout's overgrown terrarium there was a small pool with a little enchanted waterfall tucked into a corner. She kept all manner of tropical plants growing there. For a while there was nothing but the sound of the water bubbling.

"How about we take a dip in there?" Hermione inclined her head towards the pool.

"You are just full of good ideas tonight." Hermione climbed off of Draco and they walked across the room. Each felt the impulse to link hands but didn't give into it.

It was comfortably warm there. Pebbles lined the bottom and gave their feet a purchase. If either of them had known better they would've suspected that Sprout had created a paradise just for trysting purpo
They paddled about in the clear water. There was an outcropping of rock beneath the surface and Hermione settled there. She flicked her toes in the water, splashing Draco.

"Don't you splash me, woman."
She She flicked water at him again. "What are you gonna do about it?"

He paddled over to her and pulled her out of her seat, dunking her thoroughly. She popped up out of the water,sending a cascade that totally drenched him.

"Dammit, Granger. You've gotten my hair wet."

Hermione laughed. "You could stand a little less product in your hair."

"I happen to like my product, thank you very much." He ran his fingers through the wet strands and slicked them back into his classic 'do.

She waded over to him. "I happen to like your product, too."

"Do you now?"

"Mm-hm."

"What a coincidence. I like yours, too." He pulled his hands through the wet curls streaming down her back.

She smiled. Not a smile filled with malice or irony, but a smile that was just simply a smile.

A genuine soft look. Hermione was completely unguarded in that moment. Draco found that he didn't have one mocking thing to say. Nothing smart-assed or snotty or vindictive came out of his mouth.

"You know...you have a truly talented mouth."

"Do I?"

"Yes. Now, why don't you put that mouth to good use."

And she did.
************************

A long time later, they stirred on the thick green carpet. Hermione sat up and looked at Malfoy. Her curls had dried to a slight frizziness, but it only played up the kittenish quality of her triangular face.

"Malfoy?"

"Hmm?" he replied lazily.

"When's your birthday?"

"July 8th. Why do you ask?"

"Because..." He could see her struggling to find the right words. "We've had sex four times and I don't even know basic things about you like that."

"Ah."

"Quite so."

"Look. I got into this without wanting a relationship, Granger."

"I know that. The last thing I want is to be tangled up with you."

"But?"

"But nothing. I asked a question, you told me the answer. I'm satisfied." Malfoy watched her face harden slightly. He kicked himself for destroying the mood.

He walked his fingers up her spine. She shivered slightly, twisting away.

"That tickles."

"I know."

"So stop."

"You want me to stop?"

"Didn't I just say that?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

He reached up and turned her over onto her back and began tickling her like mad. She squealed and laughed. Her hair flew all over the place. God, he'd never seen a girl with so much hair. Yet it was as much a part of her as anything else. Malfoy couldn't imagine Hermione with short curls.

He stopped and she pushed the strands from her face. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes sparkled with merriment.

"You know that tickling is a form of torture."

"Yes. It's one of my very favorite forms of torture."

"Bastard."

"You liked it."

She pursed her lips in mock annoyance. "That's what you think."

"Oh? Am I not correct?" He wiggled his fingers menacingly at her.

"Maybe. But I'm sure you could put those hands to better use." She mimicked his earlier line.

And he did.
*********************

Thursday morning dawned bright and cloudless. The sun shining through the clear panes of the greenhouse ceiling woke Draco up. He blinked his eyes against the unmerciful light. He got up and rummaged around the pile of clothes for his wristwatch. Finding it, his eyes widened at the time.

He walked back over to where Hermione still slept. He shook her awake. She rolled over. "Come on, Granger, get up."

Draco got a mumbled "uh-uh" in response.

He shook her again, a little harder this time. "Come on. We've got to get up."

"Nooooo."

Malfoy decided on the blunt tack. "Look, Hermione, do you want Sprout coming in here and finding us both mother naked?"

Hermione popped up, completely awak his his use of both her name and Sprout's name. "What time is it?"

"After seven in the morning. We've got less than an hour to get out of here and to class. So get up from there."

"Yes, sir." Hermione gave Draco a merry salute and got up from her spot on the moss. They dressed and made themselves invisible just in time. Sprout came through the doorway just as Hermione's feet became transparent. The pair ran past her and out of the door.

As Sprout went about tending to her plants she stumbled across a small pink and white wristwatch with a cat's face on it. She looked at it in puzzlement. No one was supposed to be in her greenhouse. Plumeria Sprout looked around the room. She could catch the faintest scent of something which was not grown in her greenhouse - lime. Lime and pepper. Very interesting indeed. She slipped the watch into the pocket of her robes and went about her business.

Hermione and Draco went their separate ways without a goodbye. Hermione climbed up to the seventh floor quicker than she ever had. She made her head visible for the Fat Lady and went through the portrait hole and became invisible again. On the way to her room she went past Parvati, Lavender and Ginny on their way down. Just as Hermione made to enter her room, Ginny stopped and waved the others on.

(No! No! Don't knock on my door! Just walk away!!")

Ginny knocked. "Hermione?"

Hermione pressed herself against the wall and held her breath. Ginny was so close to her now.

"Hermione?" She called again. Ginny knocked harder.
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